


A Happy Accident

by smuttyandabsurd



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Drabble, Fluff, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-23
Updated: 2012-04-23
Packaged: 2017-11-04 04:34:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/389797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smuttyandabsurd/pseuds/smuttyandabsurd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Funny that, touching his hair. It always brought about the strangest behaviour."</p><p>Germany/Italy. Fluff. Short.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Happy Accident

Germany tried to kiss Italy. It hadn’t quite worked. Italy cried ‘ouch!’ and pulled back, rubbing his nose, and Germany decided that he had grown much too embarrassed about the whole situation and attempted to excuse himself. He muttered something inaudible and turned to go, but found he couldn’t quite leave. Not with Italy hanging off his shoulders.  
  
“You’re blushing!” Italy crowed gleefully. “You’re blushing, Germany, your face is all r –”  
  
He never finished his sentence. Germany had wrapped his hands around Italy’s head in an attempt to push him away, and Italy had let loose a sudden guttural groan and slammed into Germany’s face. Funny that, touching his hair. It always brought about the strangest behaviour.  
  
It was a happy accident that their lips crashed together in a sloppy little kiss. They pulled apart hurriedly in chaste embarrassment, Italy shyly murmuring ‘wow’ and Germany feeling quite compelled to agree. He gathered the little nation into his arms and kissed him again with deeper intimacy, quite forgetting himself. When Italy’s lips parted, Germany’s tongue snaked instinctively into his mouth, eliciting quiet moans, and Italy suckled gently on the invading muscle, his arms wrapping around Germany’s neck to pull tighter to him.  
  
They parted mutually for air, eyes half-lidded and a tinge of red spreading across their complexions. For a moment they remained silent, their foreheads touching, hot breaths mingling. Then Italy grinned.  
  
“You taste like beer,” he said with a little giggle. Germany smiled. Trust him to relate everything to food.


End file.
